“Sweet girl, are you okay?” Looking down, I see that she’s passed out, eyes closed, with a dreamy little smile on her face. Kissing her one last time, I groan as I pull from her carefully. She’s still out after I’ve cleaned up and brought a wet cloth back into the bedroom to care for her. Wrapping her up in a sheet, I slide under the covers behind her, pulling her back against me.
Petrov is dead, his Bratva is in ruins. I’ll order the hit on Juan’s father and tidy that mess up.
I’ll set the fucking world on fire if it keeps Aria safe.
Chapter Thirty-Five
In which there are many happy endings.
Aria…
A week later…
Once we’re back home, I almost expect everything to be different. This had been a huge shift for all of us, Elana doesn’t have to marry Juan, and the reality that someone as vicious and psychotic as Arseni Petrov is no longer a threat to us or anyone else is overwhelming.
But life has gone as usual. My office is the same, right up to the overflowing email and stack of messages my PA left for me. The damage to the house was repaired so skillfully that it’s next to impossible to see any difference.
Ifeel different. I love Lachlan.
Love that’s unpredictable and glorious and a little terrifying. I love him for his willingness to leave behind his family to help save mine. For his relentless good humor, except for in bed, where his darkness and harsh handling of me are everything I want.
I want to tell him, but I honestly don’t know how.“Hey, remember when you forced me to marry you and I really hated your guts? All that’s changed, because you’ve done so much for me. For my family.”It’s hard to sort the words out in my head that would sound right once I spoke them.
***
He’s done so much more. The information the Pakhan of the Morozov Bratva gave him included something else, an answer to our third attack at the gravesite.
“Caroline, your uncle’s mistress, was communicating with Petrov,” Lachlan told me on the flight home. “She’d been listening to the old bastard blather on about the secret vault that he was sure was in the house. The girl guessed - successfully - that the vault would be near the study. While he was attacking us at the compound, her people were tryin’ to kill us all at the funeral. She intended to fake a pregnancy with Uncle Bastard as the father to make her and the baby the heir to the King fortune.”
“I don’t believe this,” I gasped. I remembered Caroline at the funeral, how my heels sank into the sod, trying to hold her up. Part of me feels a little guilty that we never checked on her afterward, but that part is quickly snuffed out by the reminder she wanted us all dead. “Where is she now? Did she go to Siberia with Petrov?”
“No. They found her body in her apartment a couple of weeks ago. He must have ended her when she was no longer useful.”
“This is too much.” I shook my head, “Three different attacks, three different motives. In two days.”
“Welcome to the world of crime, baby,” he’d grinned at me shamelessly.
***
We’re having dinner tonight on our own. Elana’s in her room, stewing, Zed’s out with a couple of the men, “celebrating,” and I can’t find Marcus.
Dinner is on the terrace overlooking the harbor, the setting sun is shooting cotton candy pink rays over the clouds and the little lights are blinking on in the boats in the harbor. Jerome set up a beautiful table with a flower arrangement and an unseemly amount of candles.
Lachlan’s already waiting, on a call with one of his brothers. His accent always gets thicker when he’s talking to them and it makes me grin a little. He catches sight of me and winks.
“Gotta go. My bonnie bride has arrived.” He listens to what I’m pretty sure is harassment because he rolls his eyes, growling, “Feck off, ya’ lavvy-headed eejit.”
“What does that mean?” I’m laughing as he seats me at the table.
“I called Dougal an ‘idiot with his head in the toilet,’” he grumbles, shaking out his napkin.
“Oh. I can’t think of any Canadian insult to match that.”
“That’s because Canadians are too nice for insults,” he says, “but we Scots are happy to make up for it.”
“Um, I think that’s a compliment?” I laugh, thanking him for pouring me a glass of wine. “Hey, have you seen Marcus? I thought he’d be here for dinner.”
He lounges in his chair with a wicked look. “Marcus is out. With Gregor.”
